Give Me Novacaine
by BloodyJ18
Summary: Summer 1980:Arguments from the past need to be solved. Jackie's friendship with Donna is yet complicated since it's hard to see her so happy while she herself is rather down. Also, Hyde notices that Jackie has changed, but does he even care? And if he does, will he do anything about it to go back to 'normal? Summary sucks, some complicated things are about to happen.JH ED BK RK


_**A/N: So, hey there! This is my second FF story at all and my first JH story. So, first of all: Though the first chapter may seem pretty angsty, this is not gonna last the whole story. I just needed a sad start to begin with. This is only the prologue. I was actually planning on making this a one-shot, but then this idea popped into my head. This will be about hurt and comfort, but there will also be comdey. I don't know yet, if I'll only write from Jackie's POV, but I'll probably also use Hyde's for this story.**_

**_Disclaimer: If I owned any of the chracters, season 8 would've had a completley different ending._**

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**_Prologue  
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I let out a heartbreaking moan, as the knife cut deaper into my wrist. It wasn't something that had happened intentionally. It had been a mistake – a beautiful mistake, full of relief that I could barely stop anymore. The thought of the sliver shiny blade cutting deaper into my flesh, giving my blood its so urgently wanted freedom made me somehow feel calmer, more worth living. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks, making myself feel like a hopeless, childish little girl that didn't even know herself what she really wanted, what was actually worth living in her opinion which shouldn't count half that much as it actually did. And to be honest I didn't even know what I wanted. Here I was, alone and hoping for a miracle to happen – which was actually totally not me. Because I didn't believe in supernatural things. What I believed in was love, strength, hope – all stuff I had experienced and yet had let go for some undefined reason I even didn't know anymore. I looked down at my jeans, trying to remember how exavtly I had ended up here, sitting on the dirty floor of Donna's house, making strange noises which anyone but me would've called crying or even wincing – but I didn't cry anymore. If there was something that I had learned from being in a relationship with badass Steven Hyde, then definitley that crying meant that you were being weak and weak was a bad thing. Because weakness wouldn't get you anywhere, it was only useful for others that could bring you down with it and make you feel uncomfortable and even weaker than you already were. I was surprised that this was true. I guess I had adjusted so much to the thought of Steven Hyde remaining nothing but a worthless, mean jerk to me that it actually surprised me to realize that some of his dozens, oh-so-smart sentences really meant something to me and gave me a short, yet overwhelming impression of what I was about. But who was I to say that? Who was I? I wasn't sure of my answer, but I was sure of that hesitating of giving a reply to this question was definitley not a good sign. There had been times where the answer would've been a simple 'Jackie Burkhart' that my mouth would release, letting everything else stay meaningless and silent. But I didn't know who I was for almost one year now. I didn't know anything anymore. I didn't know why I had been in a realtionship with someone I didn't love for over three months just to prove something to my ex-boyfriend. I din't know why I hadn't jumped around from happiness as soon as I heard about Eric and Donna planning on getting married somewhere in the future. I didn't know why I hadn't hugged Michael full of excitement and joy, as he had told us about Brooke and him wanting to give their relationship another try. And worst of all: I didn't know why I was being so pessimistic, so silent. That was so not me. Hadn't I always been the one to get on everyone's nerves, the one who only enjoyed herself when she drew the attention of the whole audience? Now, whenever someone looked at me, I would just crawl and hide from the rest of the world. And that was giving me the creeps – and not only me. Donna had been there for me all the time after Eric had come back, but unlike me she was lucky her guy had indeed put an effort in getting her back by flying across half the world just to tell her how sorry he was – with no high expectations. All he had wanted her to do was forgive him. And she had. And it was also not very Jackie Burkhart like to hurt herself. I had never been that desperate to do my body any harm. I wasn't an evil little punk rocker who considered this a chance to prove her rebellious being to the government or stuff like that. Damn it, I wasn't Steven. Steven that luckily didn't have that gross mustache anymore. Weird way to have a first thought about your ex, huh? I guess that was the part of me that was still Jackie Burkhart. That mean, bossy, bitchy and shallow girl Michael Kelso once had fallen in love with. But the one nobody else could actually stand and particulary not Steven. I involuntarily had to chuckle. He'd hated me so much. Sometimes I still wondered how I'd ever make him go out with me. And I still couldn't believe how much I'd hoped to be planning a future for us all along. But he didn't, he would never want to and he'd die alone with no one around to caress him. And that gotta suck. But it also sucked sitting in an old kitchen with a yet older knife in your hand and cutting deep scars into your wrist to save the least bit of your rebellious attitude that you'd once learned from him. Breaking up with Fez is one of the most difficult things I've ever done. I know he truly loved me – and I thought for a while that I really loved him too. But I don't. I never did. You can't force yourself onto someone just because you feel like you're supposed to love someone who fits your imaginations better than the one you were forced to move on from. That's pretty much the same as you shouldn't accept a proposal itself just because it is something you ever dreamed of. Not if it's the wrong guy that is kneeling down in front of you. I never did it with Fez. I told him I wasn't ready for it yet and before I would be ready to be ready, I had broken up with him. It had been a long talk where I had confessed him everything. I had literally poured my heart out, telling everything that just come into my mind to explain my sudden decision. And what I really love about Fez was that he ahdn't asked any further questions, he hadn't even accused me of something like he had before. All Fez had looked like was a heartbroken, little puppy who had just lost the best thing that'd ever happened to him. And he had reassured me his friendship – still – and told me he understood, even though I knew he didn't. How could he? Starting off with a row of curse words, continuing with muttering how much you hated everything about Steven Hyde and then briefly snapping how it would've never worked out, finishing it with an apologetical look and the two words 'break' and 'up' definitley wasn't a very reasonable break-up cause, but he had accepted it. He had even offered me to stay in our apartment and to continue being best friends. I got a feeling that deep down we both had know that we'd never last that long and I sincerely hoped that he didn't know about my true reason why I had stayed with him that long. Besides I couldn't have beared it to see Steven making fun of me again – he already did enough. However, you mostly reach a point where you can't stand it anymore. The point when you experience something you never wanted to turn out the way it did. I came to the conclusion that I didn't love Fez, when we were about to do it and I was so drunk that I almost choked out the wrong name, as he was kissing me passionatley, whiping a strand of dark hair away with his hand. Then I had told myself that it was just a matter of time until I'd finally have gotten used to it, but I am almost sure that I already knew then that I was never going to love him. How can you love someone who you are supposed to love, when someone you were forbidden to love taught you how to be naughty? Someone that had more influence on you than you would ever admit probably. How is it that I almost always tended to make the wrong choice for me? And how the hell would it be possible that my heart kept on telling me different things than my mind which actually still worked. I tried to remember the shilouettes of the guests in the Foremans' basement, celebrating Kitty's birthday. Everybody was supposed to be there and I indeed had made it there about five minutes until I couldn't take the picture of blurred figures anymore and I had escaped to the first place that had come into my mind. Nobody had even bothered to turn around, as I'd left. Not that I cared a lot. Escpecially not Steven. Yeah, he was yet single again, but he didn't seem to mind girls throwing themselves at him literally a lot. But he wasn't taken. And he also didn't seem to be interested in beginning another serious relationship. It sickened him. And I wondered if I sickened him too. Although I really shouldn't. In a way I had always admired him. His courage, how he didn't care and only took care of people who really meant something to him, so I guess I'd felt particulary honored, as he'd comforted me after my break-up with Kelso. And I had tried to kiss him – and he had kinda rejected me. That hadn't been a nice feeling, but at least he was being honest. He had always been. And he'd never not be. And I liked that. Which was bad since I still was with Fez. But somehow nobody dared to take a look inside of me. Maybe because they were too damn scared of seeing a different, insecure and broken person there. Or maybe because they didn't want to see it. It's not that I ever got along with Steven – not even while we were still together. But he respected me more than any other boy had ever done and in a way that had made me feel special, though I'd constantly had to fight with my insecurities. And he had loved making me feel it. And now he loved showing to me how much he hated me yet again. To express it correctly: Basically since the first day we'd met he'd made my life become a living hell.

He had loved it when I cried, he had confused me with taking care of me at the prom and after Michael had broken up with me, yet he had considered me annoying, but gone to jail instead of me. He had kinda kissed me when I wanted to and after I'd told him that I didn't feel anything he had driven me home without being all too depressed how there had been no point in this for him. After that we had mostly been on normal term, he still wasn't opposed to teasing me, but I guess we got along.

Then it had all started.

There had been times where I'd seriosuly asked myself why on earth I did this to me. Why I made out with him all the time, when I knew all he wanted were the physical things. I guess I didn't care at that point. I just wanted some fun and he actually did make me feel better about Michael. So I was surprised that he really seemed to care if I still had feelings for Michael and how upset it had made him, when he'd experienced I did. And the ways he'd always use to apologize to me, how I was the only one he'd ever open up to. Yet I'd thrown it all away because I wanted him to marry me – and he didn't. And we had got back together and we had broken up. And he had come after me, he had married a stripper whose guts I would hate 'til the end pf my life – and that's it. And now he hated me again which should at some point make me feel happy. Because that meant that he at least had some feelings about me. Not that I cared a lot. Love was a bad thing. It hurt you more than anything else and it got you confused. As you could see by me, how I was sitting here on the cold dirty ground, soing something Steven would never do, but that reminded me so much of his lost attitude towards me that it kinda gave me the relief not to be a forgotten person and thinking how much I hated him and never wanted to be with him again – when I knew he'd put a spell on me. Or to say it more correctly: Obviously we'd had a spell on each other's gut that we hated. So much goes for me. Though I like the idea of him possibly expressing it exactly that way. I never liked him. Either way I loved him or hated him – or both. We had never not given a damn about each other – but it was not that this had ever been a good thing.

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**_Tbh I think Jackie is pretty unlikely to cut herself, but I wanted this story to start with a little drama in it and show how much Jackie has changed since her break-up with Hyde. This is only the prologue and it sucks how there wasn't any character interaction, but I promise there will be in the next chapter._**

**_I won't beg for reviews, also because this is only the prologue, but they would be nice. Also, I'll answer any questions or suggestions by the time of my next update.  
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**_Thanks  
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**_Joy  
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